Water and a Flame
by blackberriesandhoney
Summary: Britta and Jeff really never had chemistry. Except when nobody else was around. Britta couldn't help that Jeff was good at this birthday stuff.  Britta/Jeff.


**Water and a Flame**

**Summary: Britta and Jeff really never had chemistry. Except when nobody else was around. Britta couldn't help that Jeff was good at this birthday stuff. Britta/Jeff. **

**Word Count: 1,863**

**Musical Inspiration: Water and a Flame by David Merriweather **

**Spoilers: Up to 2x09**

**AN: Soo, this is my FIRST Community fic. I've been a long time fan of the show and have wrote in different fandoms, but this is my first for this. **

**Also if they are OCC, I'm sorry (read above)**

**OOOO**

The few hours that their fake relationship had lasted, it had felt real for twenty minutes. The twenty minutes had been spent in Study Room B on the couch that also served as a paintball shield. For some reason, Britta had legitimately enjoyed lounging against Jeff's side as they smiled for anyone who might be able to see through the blinds. She knew that her own eyes had managed to shut, as the warmth and mental comfort of 'cuddling' with Jeff Winger set in, she didn't know that his eyes had been shut the entire time.

They had twenty measly minutes by themselves before Shirley and Abed came in. Shirley was grinning to the high heaven and Abed was rambling about whatever movie had been sparked by his and Shirley's conversation.

"Awww." The excited cry from Shirley switched Jeff and Britta into fake relationship mode again, and they immediately moved apart and then closer together, placing hands in positions of importance. Jeff kissed the top of Britta's head to add to their theatrics.

Everything came crumbling down later that day. Their time in the study room was forgotten shortly after.

OOOO

Jeff Winger had had a recurring dream for the past month. It had started the night after his drunken make-out session with his former lover aka pain-in-his-ass Britta Perry. It probably would have started the night of, but that night he had his last alcohol-induced dreamlessness.

The dream lacked eroticism and sense. It was a replaying of those twenty minutes in the study room. Except, Shirley and Abed never appeared and Britta always said "I love you" before snuggling closer to him. He always woke up as he in the dream was about to say it back.

The fourth night the dream had come to him, he almost googled what it could mean. But for fear of it could mean, he didn't.

OOOO

"Morning, Jeff." A grinning Britta with an extended hand holding a cup of coffee.

He groaned, and lifted his head from the table in Study Room B. It was early, and none of the others had arrived yet. He reluctantly readjusted himself from his previous position of sleeping upon the table to actual sitting.

He took the coffee.

"I don't know why you're sleeping on the table, there is a couch, you know."

Jeff had to keep the scowl from emerging, she just had to mention that damn couch didn't she? Instead, he smirked, "The table has good memories."

She stopped smiling.

He waited for a change of subject, instead she said, "No, the couch has better memories, this just has sex memories."

"It was good sex." He took a sip of the coffee, surprised she remembered how he took his caffeine.

Britta rolled her eyes and gave him a smirk, "Whatever, Winger, I rocked your world."

The soft snort that he emitted turned her smirk into a smile.

"Yeah, I've been to...what was it? Flavor country?"

A blush crept up on her cheeks and she looked down.

This was the moment, he thought, the moment when she ran from the conversation.

"You weren't so bad yourself" had been what she was about to say, she only got out the 'you' before the words stuck and just as she gathered the guts to continue going head-to-head with banter of their sex life, especially when they were alone.

Annie came in. She gave them that suspicious look that came every time she saw them together. They both knew the 19 year-old was still hung up on Jeff, despite her claims of disgust. Britta had to push away the possessive girly instincts that told her to put her hand on his, he was her's first. If she wasn't trying to repress the memory itself, she'd bring up the backseat make-out session.

Jeff didn't know how similar his and Britta's thinking was, his mind was telling him to place a hand on the blonde's shoulder or shift his gaze to focus specifically on Britta and pay no attention to Annie. It wasn't because of the same reasons though, he wanted better for Annie, he had always known that he wouldn't be able to care for her the way she needed. Britta, on the other hand, seemed to be his female counterpart, she didn't get caught up in feelings and the little things, she would always accept him for who he is...Annie, like Slater, would always make him want to better than he was.

"Hey, guys." Annie shoved a faux smile unto her face.

"Hey." Britta and Jeff said, in unison.

OOOO

Britta didn't show up for classes the day before or of her birthday. Shirley had relied a message that the blonde was sick. Jeff was the only one who knew the real reason she was skipping, and he was the only one who knew her birthday. He had saw it on her file in Dean Pelton's office.

As soon as he was done with his final class, he had pelted out of Greendale and straight to the store. He got a bouquet of flowers, not roses because he knew she'd find them cliche and not wildflowers or daisies for the same reason. Instead, he picked the nice arrangement of Casablanca lilies. He almost got a birthday card, but instead he went for the "Happy Nurses' Day" one. His third purchase was 24 cans of whatever pretentious cheap beer that Britta drank.

He went home to change as well, knowing that at least he'd look good for her memories. It was a significant day that he knew she'd be upset about, mainly because he had been upset the day it happened to him.

She was now thirty. He was going to be nice, but not enough that it felt out of place, that's why he thrust the flowers into her arms as soon as she opened the door.

He had predicted correctly, her hair wasn't brushed and she was wearing sweat pants and a baggy shirt.

"What are you doing here?" She looked at the flowers, and then her mouth drooped slightly when she saw that he was wearing one of his better suits.

"Happy birthday, Britta." He said, lifting up the case of beer in his left hand.

"Nice." She smiled, "Come in."

Her apartment was a mess. He expected it was always like that. The couch was scattered with blankets and a pint of Ben & Jerry's was resting on one of the arms. A movie was paused on the screen of her tv, it was a romance, because the image captured as a man and woman in a rather risque position.

"So the big three oh?" Jeff sat the beer on the floor and tore his eyes from the mountain of leather coats on the easy chair to the side of her living area.

A disgruntled groan came from behind him, "Don't remind me." She breathed, walking past him and melodramatically collapsing on the couch.

He opened the case and grabbed two of the cans. He joined her on the couch, and she sat up to take the can before laying back down, this time with her head against his legs.

"So, did you want to see me drown in self-pity?" She asked, after taking a large gulp of the crappy beer that Jeff wanted to throw away after his own first drink.

"No, I came to help you through it." Jeff looked down, she looked so much younger without all the make-up and the masks she put up in public.

She laughed, "You make it sound like a cold that will pass. I'm thirty...I'm the age that I always thought of as old."

"You're not old." He didn't say this out of compassion, but because if she thought thirty was old, he was five years past old, and he didn't like that thought.

"I haven't done anything with my life."

"What about the foot modeling?" He asked, recalling the first day they had met.

"Buh...I'm a high school dropout who goes to community college."

He had fully planned on being the support she needed, but this semi-whining was beginning to annoy him. He decided that an assertive push was needed more than a living diary for her self-doubts.

"Britta." He said, using his firm tone that Abed would comment as his 'father' voice.

She looked up at him, a frown etched into her features.

"You need to stop this whining about the insignificance of your life so far." He said, she opened her mouth in shock and in preparation for replying, he spoke quickly to avoid the latter, "You are a great person and whatnot and you've lived your life as you wanted, you didn't conform and have 2.5 kids, a designer drug addiction and depression that others our age do, so stop pouting."

"I'm alone." She whispered after a few moments of silence passed, "What if I keep having stupid meaningless flings until no one wants me anymore? What do I do then?"

He smiled down at her, "You really shouldn't worry about that yet."

She groaned and looked back to her beer, she mumbled something he figured was just as self-destructive.

"Britta, you have no idea what guys will do for you, do you?" He felt a slight more giving, so he thought this was fitting to help her out of her spiral, "Our study group, our little Greendale family would be nothing without you. I wanted you badly enough that I allowed myself to become attached to what at first seemed to be a rag-tag group of misfits. It was all for you."

She sat up, he guessed to get another one of those shitty beers. Instead, she kissed him.

He let himself enjoy it for a minute, before he pushed her away.

He stood up and handed her the card.

"I need to go." He said, walking to the door.

"Jeff." She called from the couch.

He turned back, "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

OOOO

"Are you feeling better, Britta?" Shirley asked, as soon as Britta put one foot into Study Room B.

"Yes." Britta nodded, heading to her seat.

"You look very well." Jeff smirked.

"Yes, you have an unusual smileage to you." Abed commented, and Britta tried to get rid of the grin that had been on her face since her dreaded thirtieth birthday.

"She must have got some." Pierce added.

Jeff's smirk grew as that familiar redness burst through Britta.

She avoided his eyes the entire day, but as soon as classes were over and she glanced around the parking lot making sure the rest of the group had gone, she followed Jeff to his Lexus.

Sometime over the next month, Jeff would tell Britta about the dream that plagued him. Britta would tell him how much she had enjoyed those twenty minutes on the couch/shield.

Jeff would feel content when Britta would say and mean those three little words three months later, because even though their relationship would gradually change him, he felt as though he would always be himself...even with her.

OOOO

**AN: I would appreciate any feedback for this fic, because I was really worried that Jeff and Britta would be out of character, and all of the others as well. The main reason I had never attempted Community fics because of this worry, so any comments would be welcomed. **


End file.
